Monday, October 29, 2012

"If a fish lives its whole life in this river, does he know the rivers destiny? No! Only that it runs on and on out of his control, he may follow where it flows, but he can not see the end, he can not imagine the ocean."

posted at around 9:44 AM
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Monday, September 10, 2012


the tower cried, she stepped off the back of the jeep. it moved as her feet touched the ground, leaving off a trail of black smoke and a whiff of pedestrian sweat.


the tower cried, she glanced at a white light, in front was a casket. the cover was blank, usually dressed in ribbons and adorned with images of the deceased, this one was naked.


the tower howled, bass echoing from the houses to her left. she looked down, watched her feet drag each other with each step. the road was wet, the sky was sad tonight.


the tower howled, as a siren went off to her right. red light was circling atop a pole, as others walked their own ways.

oh, to walk like they do. 'the know nothing', a line she read as a kid, it still haunts her to this day.


the tower wailed, she looked at where it came from. dabbing up from a grotesque modly base, calling in people. its gates intertwined like snakes in heat, nobody seemed to care how the bell tolled.

she looked to her left, there it was. i can see its eyes, i can hear its scream.

she jumped to the tracks and closed her eyes.


its wheeled feet kissed her bones, metal sucked on her flesh. its stride groped on her whole body, the tracks wet with red life.

the tower wailed for the last time, the siren stopped screaming, and people walked on.

was the kiss worth it?

posted at around 8:34 AM
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Thursday, September 06, 2012

night blind.

hands outstretched forward, you try to find your way through a room. it's like drowning, only you crave for light instead of air. your vision swims through the flood, and technicolor maggots wriggle around anywhere you look.

 radiant thorns crawled out from a single luminaire: a beautiful glare. warmth spread throughout the room, illuminating the books by that shelf to the right, and the carved foliage on that table.

 yellow, everything in the room was yellow, or a shade of another bathed with warmth. even our dark doppels seemed soaked in champagne.

 it was this light that caught your eye. its bulbous shape, this man-made sun making this cold room feel warm, making these four walls glow softly.

 night blind: the light goes out. suddenly you feel lost. everything you knew was drowned with something else.

doubt. you stretch your hands out to feel your way through, you put one foot forward in the hopes you don't fall in a sinkhole. you scream at your eyes, craving for images. anything, that book you always read before you slept, or that leaf a third from the edge that stemmed out from a branch as thin as your favorite pencil. 

damn these maggots, i'm not dead yet.

posted at around 9:34 AM
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Monday, July 23, 2012

Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.

It's opener there
in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
don't worry.  Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.


You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
who soar to high heights.

You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don't
Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.

You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out?  Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.

The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.

Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

NO! That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.

With banner flip-flapping,
once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. There are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.

I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you'll be quite a lot.

And when you're alone,
there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
though your enemies prowl
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike
and I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and 8/4 percent guaranteed.)


be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

posted at around 9:43 PM
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Wednesday, March 07, 2012

a thin lace of white gently whipped the air, moving gracefully towards a crease on the gravel. light poured through it, the shadow on the floor a mere ghost of what floats above. with a sudden gush from the outside it was gone, leaving behind cinders on the ceramic tile, mountains of wax, and a smear on the smooth ground.

it burned out. i said i won't let it. but it burned itself out.

it's the beauty of the things we normally overlook, something we pass by without taking much care or notice. something one says that you do not take heart, something you say that you don't really mean.

do you still love mangoes? apples? do my kisses mean anything more than just that? am I supposed to be at fault for everything? do you know why i ask these questions?

i didn't want the dance to stop.

but it burned itself out. no matter how hard i kept that candle safe, that dance on that crimson stage stopped.

posted at around 9:30 PM
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Saturday, February 25, 2012

The moon's a fine line tonight, soon it'll be all shadows. A fine line, soon erased, then redrawn.

If I could just have her round and full and never hiding, and just see the scars, her beauty and her imperfections. Have her shine on my eyes, see rings around her in stripes of colors, have her dance with her little ones and play hide and seek behind the clouds and still she be in all her glory: round, and full, and never hiding.

And maybe I should ask the wind to stop, too. Ask him to stop caressing earth's little fingers, branching out from the dirt. Ask him to stop the dance he makes with the green hair growing on that rolling plain, or stop whispering murmurs to the ants walking along that impervious gray envelope. Ask the wind to stop: have a day off or too, I'm sure he's pretty tired with all that moving.

Or maybe I should just stop dreaming.

posted at around 11:51 PM
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Monday, January 30, 2012

The battle fever. He had never thought to experience it himself, though Jaime had told him of it often enough. How time seemed to blur and slow and even stop, how the past and the future vanished until there was nothing but the instant, how fear fled, and thought fled, and even your body. "You don't feel your wounds then, or the ache in your back from the weight of the armor, or the sweat running down into your eyes. You stop feeling, you stop thinking, you stop being you, there is only the fight, the foe, and this man and then the next and the next and the next, and you know they are afraid and tired but you're not, you're alive, and death is all around you but their swords move so slowly, you can dance through them laughing." Battle fever. -Tyrion (Martin, 1999)

I'd read this over and over, and never get tired of a single word.

posted at around 3:17 AM
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Friday, December 16, 2011

what would you have done differently?

ret┬Ěro┬Ěspect. contemplation of the past; a survey of past time, events, etc.

it is human nature to regret. one moment we're certain of things, the next thing we know we might've taken a wrong turn somewhere. then we look back, trace our steps and realize that fork we just passed by tricked us into picking the wrong road.

too bad we don't have a preview of what might come as we go along. we only have ideals. the sad part is, these ideals we oh so perfectly engineered in our head don't really get to be realized as we thought they'd be. there'd be that stain on the left corner of that image, or that gash from that top end to the bottom, then we realize we aren't looking at the same picture anymore. we're in another place: lost, figuring things out as we get used to the imperfections. then we settle, jump on that cliff and recollect, wasn't there another way to get through this than what i just did?

thinking in retrospect gives you that false authority over not knowing. who's to say we picked the wrong road? who's to say jumping wasn't a good idea either? Ab actu ad posse valet illatio, but to deduce can only get us so far. we can reason our way out of the most absurd things to justify what we think is right, but then again, who are we to judge if we made the right call?

it's like a plague that gets into your head, you think for a moment you know what to do, then you realize you just don't.

what would you have done differently?

i would've stopped asking that damned question. we learn a whole lot from getting lost than what we would've from when we're not. so when that next fork comes around we know how it feels to not know, and hopefully we won't have to look back.

regret, that's one word i'm definitely crossing out from my vocabulary.

posted at around 12:20 AM
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Tuesday, December 06, 2011

it was an uneventful--cold-quiet evening and i randomly thought of looking up possible ideas for whatever and i settled for checking how much future education may cost me.

so, according to CCA's (California College of the Arts, a random school I looked up since I had relatives there) financial aid admissions cost of attendance calculator, I needed 52 420 dollars for one term. ONE TERM!! that would be around 2 358 900 pesos!! FOR ONE FREAKING TERM!

no wonder they only have nearly a quarter of their population (29.54%) have a bachelors degree.

granted i'm reaaaally so qualified for their financial aid/scholarships/loans (ugh) the net cost would be around 464 000 pesos, gah.

so depressing. oh well, i guess that's not for me.

posted at around 12:31 AM
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Sunday, November 27, 2011

nobody really bothers fixing their bed anymore,

or cares what that weird weather guy dressed up like he's always in the safari said on tv.

i bet most people would spend much of their money on the most unnecessary things,

or get a bit out of control with their friday night.

but what if friends suddenly come over and see your privees "inopportunely" hanging on that sofa?

or that it suddenly starts raining and you just wished you were a little more attentive that morning.

it's a bummer when you suddenly had to get something and your wallet's all dust,

or fuck that swerve got the best of your already alcohol flooded head.

the little things count, that's what i always say.

there's nothing "opportune" about getting a little too late for an important meeting when you keep on raping that snooze button every freaking day.

you lie about what you had for breakfast, the next thing you know you're telling stories about how great your weekend was.

you scratch yourself a couple of times when you're upset, i'll be willing to bet my whole life you'll die by your own shit fault and rot in a whole eternity of reliving your own doing.

nobody really bothers fixing their bed anymore. nobody cares about the little things, and that's just sad.

posted at around 1:17 AM
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    hello guys, and welcome to my world, haha. i'm arts. a 24 year old curious drone who took up architecture in the University of Santo Tomas. Here you'll see my utterly pointless rants that go on and on about my radical thoughts and some undefined syllogisms on my own perspective of what life is, how i deal with the seemingly asymptotic relationship of what i want and the percentage probability of its realization, the tangency of drama and my everyday life that never reached the state of complete equillibrium, almost anything that is about the ME you guys have an idea of equal to the value of the unknown x in the algebraic expression (x-a)(x-b)...(x-z). If you think there's an error with anything that I say in my entries then tell me. Comments or any thing you want to say, just tag.

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